


Flannel Friday

by ladymacbethsspot



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Masturbation, Misunderstandings, Teenage Drama, no one can communicate properly, very big on the fluff and very low on the drama, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 08:27:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16364384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymacbethsspot/pseuds/ladymacbethsspot
Summary: Porco's a high school senior on the football team. Everything is fine, typical high school stuff, until his idiot friend, Reiner, shows up one day wearing matching clothes. Matching with Reiner?! Unacceptable.





	Flannel Friday

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Gallirei Weekend 2018 for the 'Autumn' prompt day using 'flannel'.
> 
> This is my first time writing anything but a drabble for these two and I'm honestly really surprised I ended up doing a fluffy AU. I hope everyone enjoys!
> 
> You can find me on [Tumblr](https://ladymacbethsspot.tumblr.com/) where I write and reblog mostly Eruri-oriented content.

The metallic clank of the locker slamming was a satisfying sound on a Friday morning, and Porco put some extra muscle into it. He shifted his notebooks, ready to head to homeroom, when Pieck floated by- a slight, quiet figure.

“Yo, Pieck,” he called out, falling into step behind her. The dark circles under her eyes were obvious when he looked over, the vague tones of a half-dream still clinging to her voice.

“Morning, Paco.”

With a frown, Porco gave her shoulder a little shove with his arm. “Don’t call me that,” he muttered. “Up late last night?” Pieck’s hair fluttered as she gave a small nod.

“I was writing that essay about ancient Grecian vase art for Mr. Smith, but then I kept getting sidetracked. They really were a celebration of the human form. All those stylized penises- and a lot of topless women. It seems quite erotic, doesn’t it?” They paused- dark, luminous eyes turning their deep focus onto him as Porco stammered.

“Pieck, you can’t just talk about naked-”

“Hey guys!” They both turned in time to see Reiner striding quickly down the hall. Tall and broad, he struck a commanding presence. During football season Reiner was always on top of his game, throwing his weight around and prancing about in his stupid varsity jacket. Just because he was the quarterback didn’t make him anything special- he was still the same wimp he’d always been and Porco knew it. At least he wasn’t wearing the hated varsity jacket today. Instead, today he wore a dumb red flannel shirt that-

Shit. Porco’s jaw dropped. That shirt was familiar, _too_ familiar. The shirt Reiner wore, a red and black checked flannel shirt, was identical to the one he was wearing. The spitting image, his own outfit mirrored itself back at him, plucking annoyingly at his calm as his temper flared. Not only was Reiner wearing the same shirt, but the way the buttons stretched a little over Reiner’s chest- he was wearing Porco’s damn shirt and looking damn good in it. This was unacceptable. This was _unfair_.

Reiner clapped a hand down on his shoulder, oblivious to his own crimes. “Coming to the football game tonight, Pieck? It should be a good one, right Porco?” He looked over, the grin on his face already assured that Porco would back him up. Well, this time he wouldn’t.

Shrugging the hand off, Porco crossed his arms. “What do you think you’re doing, Reiner?”

“What do you mean? Asking Pieck if she’s going to the game tonight?”

“No, dumbass. Your shirt.”

Reiner looked down, plucking absently at the flannel. “Is there something wrong with my shirt?” he said, frowning slightly, fingers absently tugging and tugging the already-tight fabric over his pectoral muscles that Porco _swore_ hadn’t looked like that before. It was the checks- it had to be.

“Oh,” Pieck sighed, her breathy voice making them both quiet to hear her words, “you both have the same shirt. What a coincidence.” She smiled, “Did the football team plan it?”

“No!” Porco insisted, angrier by the second. “No, we didn’t plan it. I would never plan to wear the same thing as this dick-face. Reiner, go change your shirt!”

“What? I’m not changing, I didn’t bring anything else!” Reiner countered, “Besides, I don’t mind if we’re wearing the same thing.”

Porco groaned theatrically, trying to push every molecule of his irritation in Reiner’s direction in the hopes that it might finally get how badly Reiner had messed up through his thick skull.

It didn’t seem to be working.

He shot a pleading look at Pieck only to see her look away quickly, hiding her smile behind a notebook. _This is ridiculous_ , he thought, _I have to do everything myself_.

“Whatever,” Porco grumbled. “Just don’t do it again. We look like a pair of third-grade girls who coordinated their outfits. Might as well get heart-shaped ‘best friends forever’ necklaces or something.”

At that, Reiner laughed.

“Give me your phone number,” Porco demanded.

Reiner stopped laughing, a look of confusion and something else Porco couldn’t quite decipher crossed his face. “Why?” The hesitation in the word felt a little strange coming from Reiner.

“So, I can text you. Then we won’t match.”

“Oh,” Reiner answered, “Sure.” For a second Porco wondered whether he was hallucinating, or whether Reiner sounded- disappointed? That couldn’t be it. It didn’t make any sense. Reiner took his phone from his pocket, not looking at Porco as he brought up a text window. “What’s yours? I’ll send you a message.” After Reiner keyed in the numbers and hit ‘send’ Porco felt his phone’s telltale vibration in his back pocket.

“Maybe I will go to the game tonight,” Pieck answered, changing the subject, “Is Annie playing yet?”

Reiner nodded, as though the weirdness of their phone number exchange had never happened. “Yeah, her ankle’s better so she’s back in the game. I told you it would be a good one!”

“Well, I’ll see you Pieck. If you need a ride tonight let me know,” Porco stated, ready to get to homeroom where Reiner’s stupid matching shirt couldn’t tease him any longer.

“See you, Paco,” she answered, curling her fingers in a wave.

“See you,” Reiner added.

With only a grunt as acknowledgement, Porco turned down the hall to their left and headed off for the day.

* * *

 

By the time Thursday rolled around the next week, Porco had almost forgotten the disastrous matching flannels. Almost. He couldn’t _quite_ let that one go, and when his homework was finally finished for the night he flopped down onto his bed, scrolling through his phone. Should he text Reiner? It seemed childish now, to get upset over something so small, but Reiner had been so annoying. That was one of his favorite shirts, and now he was determined not to ever wear it even during the same week Reiner had worn his. The only way to avoid it was to text Reiner.

With a sigh, he tapped out a message.

_I’m wearing a green flannel._

He went back to wasting time on the internet, following a couple of click-bait articles for the fun of it. He was halfway through a third, trying to predict where another link with the vague label ‘You Won’t Believe’ would lead, when he felt the phone vibrate. Reiner had responded.

_I’m wearing grey sweatpants and a t-shirt._

Porco stared at the message. What the hell was Reiner talking about? Did he really plan to wear sweatpants to school tomorrow? That had to be a violation of the dress code. The phone buzzed again.

_No socks._

Even more baffled, Porco blinked. This made even less sense, there was no way Reiner wouldn’t wear socks to scho-

Oh shit.

Oh shit.

That idiot. He was talking about what he was wearing _right now_. Oh shit. Porco felt his face heating up. This was not the information he’d wanted. Now all he could think about was Reiner lying on his bed, lounging around with bare feet. All relaxed, not a care in the world, casually texting Porco and probably laughing at him too. Why would he care what Reiner was wearing? He didn’t. Especially if it was going to be something boring like sweatpants and-

_Tomorrow, you idiot. I’m wearing a green flannel tomorrow. We’d better not match, or I’ll kill you._

With furious precision he typed the words as his jaw tightened. He sent the message, staring at the screen as he willed Reiner to stop fooling around and embarrassing him. When a simple _OK_ flashed up in response, he let out a long breath, released the death grip on his phone, and adjusted his suddenly too-tight jeans for good measure.

* * *

 

The next day Porco strode down the hall confidently, waving and saying ‘hello’ to Pieck when he caught up to her in the hall. He was wearing his green flannel, his varsity jacket, dark jeans, and a comfortable pair of Converse. Looking fly, feeling good, nothing was going to get his mood down at the end of the week.

“Did you stay up late again last night?” He asked Pieck, shaking his head when she gave a small smile.

“Yes, I just got caught up talking with Zeke online- I don’t even know where the time went!”

Porco sighed, he should have known. Zeke’s crackpot conspiracy theories were kryptonite for Pieck. Just as he was about to ask her what the latest one was, he heard Reiner’s voice.

“Hey Porco, hey Pieck.”

He turned, for once not irritated to see Reiner now the he knew they wouldn’t be dressed up in some ridiculous-

Oh shit. Porco groaned. How was it even possible? It’s true, Reiner wasn’t wearing a green flannel shirt. Unfortunately, he _was_ wearing his varsity jacket, dark jeans, and converse high-tops in the exact same color as Porco’s. It was uncanny. He’d somehow managed to mess this one simple thing up so royally, even after their highly embarrassing and clearly futile text exchange.

What an idiot.

Reiner had always been such an idiot.

Only an idiot would send him those weird messages.

Only and idiot would… an idiot who… _dammit_ , Porco thought, more distracted than he’d like to admit by Reiner’s outfit. It looked- well, there was a reason Porco had chosen the combination himself, and it didn’t look half bad. It even looked pretty cool on Reiner, cooler than usual at least. So, instead of 0% cool, maybe 30%. Maybe 35%. The jeans weren’t bad. They fit well, stretching a little over Reiner’s thighs, the way he’d tucked his not-green flannel into them drawing Porco’s eye to Reiner’s hips.

“Oh,” Pieck interjected, a little more animated than usual as she looked over the two, obviously scanning up and down as Porco frowned and Reiner stood, oblivious, “you match today, too! The number exchange worked!”

“No, it didn’t!” Porco shook of his discomfort and snapped back at her. “This is the exact opposite of what was supposed to happen! Reiner, you have to change. Just wear your gym clothes or some shit.”

“What?” Reiner asked, his usual calm somewhat affronted by the accusation, “I won’t do that. It’s fine, no one will notice. We barely have any classes together.”

“Fine,” admitting that Reiner was right stung, but there was nothing Porco could do about it this time, “It better not happen again-” he emphasized his point by jabbing a pointed finger into Reiner’s chest, “-or I’ll kill you for real.”

* * *

 

When Monday came Porco had almost forgotten the embarrassment of the past week.

That was, until he saw Reiner.

He groaned, watching his blond friend approach as he slammed his locker shut.

That idiot.

He wanted to die.

Of course, he hadn’t remembered to text Reiner again. He hadn’t even imagined that he’d need to until the dreaded Flannel Friday rolled around again. Apparently, he’d been wrong.

Today, on this Monday of all Mondays, Reiner had somehow managed to wear the exact same clothing as him. He didn’t even know it was possible to own so many of the same things.

“Hey Porco- hold on,” Reiner paused, his brows coming together as he slowly looked over Porco. Crossing his arms, Porco waited. “Why are you wearing the same thing as me today?”

“Why are _you_ wearing the same thing as _me_?”

“I asked you first.”

“I’m not, that’s why. I’m tired of you copying me, Reiner. How is this even happening? It’s like you went into my closet and took my clothes!” Frustrated and annoyed, Porco didn’t even bother to keep his voice from rising during their exchange. Let everyone hear, he didn’t care.

“You know…” Reiner ventured, momentary surprise at Porco’s outburst taken easily in stride as he spoke, “that’s actually not a bad idea.”

“What?”

Giving a noncommittal nod of his head, trying to look cool no doubt, Reiner continued. “Maybe that’s a way to stop us from matching. I’ll just lend you something and you can lend me something. That way we’ve already made sure we’re not matching.”

“Lend you,” Porco said, “what the hell? That’s the stupidest-”

He closed his mouth.

He thought for a moment.

It was kind of dumb, but it might solve the problem. Nothing else had worked so far. He’d have to pick something a little big on him, Reiner was a little taller, but not even by much. They could probably swap clothing without much difficulty. Besides, he could always dress Reiner up in something really ugly to get back at him.

“Alright,” he agreed, “I’m bringing something tomorrow. You better wear it with _exactly_ what I tell you to. _Exactly_. Okay?”

The seriousness in Reiner’s expression when he agreed wasn’t exactly what Porco had expected, but it wasn’t bad either. At least his friend wasn’t messing with him.

* * *

 

Porco flopped down on his bed. He had a college football game playing on his TV but wasn’t really watching. His homework was done, none of his friends wanted to hang out, and he didn’t really feel like doing anything that required leaving his room. He stared at his closed bedroom door. On it hung a hangar with the shirt Reiner had given him at school that day. So far, they’d swapped clothing twice already and Friday would make it three times.

Oddly enough, it hadn’t been that bad. Reiner’s clothes weren’t too far out of Porco’s comfort zone, and they were a little big, but nothing that wasn’t manageable. At least they’d been clean and in good condition, and Reiner hadn’t forced him to wear anything embarrassing yet. He also felt like he was getting a better handle on what Reiner liked and didn’t like to wear- information that would probably be useful if he was going to break their unfortunate twinsies streak for good.

Tomorrow was Flannel Friday, and Reiner had chosen appropriately. Getting up from his bed, Porco walked over to the shirt. It was orange, navy blue, and cream- a bold choice that would look even bolder with his hair color. He could imagine Reiner wearing it. Feeling the fabric of the sleeve, he let the image fill in. Slightly rugged, it was a heavier knit, something that would complement a muscular physique while still being a little fashionable due to the colors. He pulled the shirt from the hangar, resolving to try it on and see how it would look the next day.

When he’d gotten the buttons done he checked himself out in the mirror. _Not bad_ , he thought, scanning his own image. Still, he couldn’t quite shake the idea of Reiner in the shirt. Its weight reminded him somehow- and the smell. He breathed deep, holding one of the cuffs in his hand up to his face- it smelled good. Clean, and a little like a campfire, maybe Reiner had worn it as a jacket over a t-shirt sometime recently and hadn’t washed it. His lips twitched as he breathed in the vaguely smoky scent again.

His fingers ran over the shirt’s front, feeling the softness of the fabric against them and against his skin. Reiner had been the last person to wear this shirt. He was wearing Reiner’s shirt. The reality sank in slowly, bringing a warmth to his chest. He looked away from the mirror, absently crossing the room back to his bed and lying down on it to stare at the ceiling instead. Distracted, the weak mumbling of the television and the expanse of white above provided a backdrop for his mind to wander. To thoughts of Reiner in his different clothes, how they’d been a little tight, how his chest and shoulders had looked good straining lightly under them. The one t-shirt had been shorter than what his friend would normally wear, and the way Reiner’s ass had looked in his jeans when he turned around and walked away were more than enough to make Porco groan quietly.

He could dress Reiner up however he wanted, too. His face grew warm, the possibilities endless and tantalizing. His hand traveled down his chest to his jeans, adjusting them where they felt tight. He paused, the image of his friend in increasingly smaller clothing and the subtle scents of Reiner’s shirt winding around him. Slipping his hand under the waistband of his jeans, he palmed himself, sighing as he licked his lips and recalled the times he’d actually paid attention in the locker room during football practice.

It was almost too easy to stroke himself, to feel his cock go from half to fully-hard as he undid the button and zipper on his jeans and shifted on the bed. Almost too easy, thinking about seeing Reiner’s face coming closer, about their lips touching, about what it would feel like to kiss him. He imagined the firm grip of hands on his body, pushing up under his shirt as he moved his unoccupied hand to mimic his fantasies. Groaning quietly, he squeezed his cock, closing his eyes and lifting his hips with the delicious pressure and heat that were growing inside. His body was getting warmer, almost too warm for clothing, but he didn’t plan on removing Reiner’s shirt anytime soon- not when it felt so good against his skin, not when it reminded him of how Reiner would feel.

Just as his breathing was getting heavier, as his hand started to tug at his swollen cock with purpose and his hips moved to match it, he felt it. The telltale vibration of his phone. Eyes snapping open, he swore, his wild imagination interrupted by the present. With a grumble he dug the phone from his back pocket, ready to ignore whoever had interrupted him so rudely with their call. It was his older brother, Marcel. _Dammit_ , Porco thought, easing his hand from his pants, _even at college he still manages to tease me_.

* * *

 

Flannel Friday arrived and this week Porco was ready. He wore Reiner’s shirt to school. For once he missed Pieck and Reiner in the hall, running a little late on his way to homeroom. The rest of the day was a blur- Friday’s sense of hope filtering through the droning noise of even his most boring classes and reminding him that the weekend was on the horizon. Even better, he didn’t have to worry about looking like a fool since he was already wearing Reiner’s shirt. Reiner’s shirt- it was more comfortable than he’d expected, the fabric warm enough for the season but soft. It still smelled faintly of campfire, a pleasant scent he’d catch surprise whiffs of while staring out the window or when he grudgingly raised his hand under the meaningful stare of the history teacher, Mr. Smith. All in all, it was almost possible to just coast through the day, letting his thoughts drift as he relaxed in the back of the class. Or, it would have been, if the things he’d done last night in that same shirt hadn’t kept coming back at the least-convenient times.

There was no football game of practice that week, and Porco was free after his last class finished. He was walking home today, and of course he bumped into Reiner while he was retrieving his bag form his locker. Sure, enough Reiner was wearing his flannel shirt, sure enough looking much better in it that Porco ever had and making his neck and ears warm from a confusing combination of anger and something else. The day was going too well though, and Porco managed to push his frustration from his mind quickly.

“Hey, Porco! Nice shirt,” Reiner smiled, pleased at his own joke.

“Yeah, well, yours looks pretty good too,” Porco answered with an equal boast, letting himself grin as Reiner gave a good-natured chuckle.

“The swap worked pretty well.”

Porco had to agree and nodded in reply.

“So… I was thinking…” Reiner seemed to be taking more time than usual, and wasn’t really looking at Porco while he spoke, instead glancing between the floor and the lockers behind.

“What?”

“I was… thinking…”

“Fat chance,” Porco muttered, snapping Reiner from his bumbling explanations.

“Nevermind, you wouldn’t want to anyway,” Reiner responded. Porco felt an immediate twist in his gut when he noticed the way Reiner’s brows had drawn together and how he had deflated- shoulders drooping.

“Hey, Reiner… maybe,” it was Porco’s turn to cast about for a way to apologize without actually doing so, “Anyway, what were you thinking?”

“I just thought maybe we could keep this clothing swap up. Not forever, maybe a week. That’s probably long enough.”

“Alright,” Porco agreed, hesitating slightly- why would Reiner have been so embarrassed about saying that?

“And I thought maybe to swap we could… meet up this weekend.”

“Oh.” _Okay,_ Porco stared at Reiner as he considered what it all meant.

“Maybe at a coffee shop or something,” Reiner finished, pushing his hands into his pockets and leaning back, clearly trying to play everything off as cool and casual as possible.

“Oh…” Porco’s hands clenched on his notebooks. Did Reiner somehow know what he’d been thinking about the night before? Was he making fun of him? Was this a joke? Or, was Reiner serious? The effort Reiner had taken to finally ask his question wasn’t what you’d put into asking a friend to hang out. But, then again, Reiner was an idiot. Porco sighed internally, realizing he’d just have to find out for himself whatever was behind Reiner’s request.

“Alright,” Porco answered, arranging his face into something he hoped looked confident and collected, “coffee is good.” He reached into his locker, pulling his bag out and stuffing his notebooks into it as quickly as he could. Before Reiner could say anything else he closed his locker and walked away.

As he headed down the hall, he took one last look over his shoulder, at Reiner still standing by his locker, wearing his flannel shirt, and looking better than ever.

Porco grinned.

“Text me!” he called back.


End file.
